


Red Moon Rising

by Princex_N



Series: Autistic!Homestuck [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Autism, Autistic!John, FTM John, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Graphic description of menstruation, Menstruation, Neurodiversity, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princex_N/pseuds/Princex_N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Periods are the absolute worst thing in the world. Especially when you're a guy. Especially when you're autistic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Moon Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently "Red Moon" is a euphemism for your period.

You wake up at 3:30 in the morning on a Saturday and immediately know that the rest of the day is going to be not as great as you had hoped it would be. 

You spend a couple of minutes trying to avoid the reality of the situation. Hoping that maybe if you lay in bed and ignore it, it could make it disappear completely. But, as usual, this gets you nowhere, and after a wave of pain that has you gritting your teeth and breathing harshly out of your nose, you get up and stagger to the bathroom. 

You work off your boxers and stare at the stain in them unhappily. You toss them in the sink and turn on the hot water, resolving to scrub it out later. When you don't feel like you're about to cry. 

Periods are the absolute worst thing in the world. Especially when you're a guy. Especially when you're autistic. 

You hurriedly sit on the toilet before you make a mess out of anything else, and suppress a wave of nausea and sort of maybe wish you were a little bit dead. 

You spend no less than an hour on said toilet, idly browsing the internet on your phone, occasionally letting out a groan of pain while your body decides that now is the perfect time to purge your intestines. 

The menstrual cramps are difficult to differentiate from the stomach cramps, which in turn makes it hard to tell when you're okay to get up. You wait several minutes just in case, before you realize that your underwear is soaking in the sink next to you and that you don't have anything else to put on. You let loose another groan, this one of frustration. 

The stress and pain is starting to make your skin crawl painfully, and you're shaking slightly. But you don't tell if that's because of the pain or of your impending meltdown. 

To push off the sensory overload a while longer, you strip off your shirt and resolutely do not look down at your chest while you struggle to clean yourself up and come up with a temporary solution that will last long enough for you to dart out and grab some underwear. 

The next few minutes pass in a flurry of confused movements while you hobble around and try to get underwear, get a pad, make sure you aren't bleeding all over yourself, and get the pad on, all while trying very hard not to touch any part of your body that you don't need to and trying to be as quiet as you possibly can. You feel like it could have passed easier if your dad wasn't at work. 

It's a mess. 

You hate everything. 

Once you're finally done, you head off to hunt down some Midol. You feel like the medicine moves every time you need it, but you can't tell if it's because you moved it to take some the month before, or if your dad was shuffling things around just for kicks.  You usually try to avoid medicine, especially pills, at all costs, but you'd endure the feeling of swallowing a pill to get rid of the cramping any time. 

You look sadly at your binder, which is hanging near the washing machine to dry, but you know that the texture of the fabric and the pressure on your ribs will just make you even more uncomfortable than you already are and will reduce you to tears twice as fast. You go to find a very baggy sweatshirt instead. 

The sweatshirt helps smother your dysphoria and your sensory troubles with its size and weight. The Midol is beginning to kick in, which leaves you feeling slightly more human, but still relatively shitty. 

You kind of want to message some of your friends, to get your mind off of everything, but the thought of the notifications is making you a little more nauseated. Sounds, vibration, even just the sight of the little notice popping up on your computer, the thought of any of those things right now is a very not good one. When you're on your period, everything becomes sharper in ways that are just overall bad. Things are louder and more detailed, and you would really like it if it would stop! You then sigh, because you know that you can wish all you want, but this is going to be your life for the next few days. You sigh again for good measure. 

You spend a couple of minutes just standing there, bouncing up and down on your toes and flopping your arms around a bit, and then you stop, and decide that right now is the perfect time for a movie!

You wish, absently, as you head to your room, that your dad was home, or anyone really. The idea of pressure stimming is something that sounds like it would be really good right now, but you've never really been able to do it right on your own. Then again, you haven't really done anything like that in a while, your dad is pretty busy most of the time now, but you miss the feeling. Maybe you can convince him, if he's not super busy, to sit with you once he gets home. 

It takes you a long time to settle on a movie. There is a whole lot of good ones to choose from, after all, and you've never really been good at deciding which one you want to watch right in that moment. You feel like it would be an interesting experience to watch them all at the same time, but you also think that would be a very overwhelming experience and probably not the best idea. You store it away for further consideration anyway. 

You end up with Con Air, which isn't really a surprise, since it's probably your favorite movie of all time. There's just something about it that you just can't resist. 

You debate going to put it on the downstairs TV, but the sound of the air conditioner is beginning to irritate you, and you can feel a knot of tense muscles forming between your shoulder blades, so you grab your noise cancelling headphones and put them on while you try to get everything you need closer to your computer so you can watch on there. 

You don't wind up getting everything that you need at all, because as you're dragging your weighted blanket over to your chair, you feel a gush of blood and almost double over in discomfort before you hurriedly sit down and pretend like there wasn't more stuff that you were planning on bringing over. 

Because that is totally not a thing you were going to do at all. 

Instead you curl yourself into a ball, blanket draped and curled around your body like a cocoon. It's easy to lose yourself in the movie and pretend like you aren't bleeding from a uterus you really don't want to have in the first place. 

Your dad comes home for lunch and brings you a bottle of water and tells you to make sure that you're hydrated. You're right in the middle of the best scene, so you aren't really paying attention to what he's saying to you, but you appreciate the gesture because it means you don't have to get up and walk around any more than you absolutely have to. 

You resolve to thank him later as you head to the bathroom before you put in another movie and attempt to ride out the rest of the day. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am, admittedly, a little hesitant to post this one.  
> And one day I'll finally get a handle on the ability to write endings and then I'll be great.


End file.
